


The Death of Him

by Shipperqueen



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, F/M, Student!Belle, Teacher-Student Relationship, ripperblackstaff prompted this, teacher!gold
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-04-15 00:03:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4585287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shipperqueen/pseuds/Shipperqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cameron Gold is in love with his TA Belle French, but could never tell her. After a month of missing her she's finally back and needs to speak to him right away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Death of Him

**Author's Note:**

> Big shocker that Ripperblackstaff prompted this. It was originally supposed to be part of my 400 follower promptathon on tumblr, but now that I'm nearing 700 followers I don't think I really need to tag it as that lol. 
> 
> Many thanks to CharlotteAshmore for being my beta again. xx

Cameron Gold loved his office. It was a sacred space, a sanctuary, his home away from home. It was organized chaos to the average outsider. It was a complete mess, really. There were tomes stacked five – sometimes ten – high on a desk littered with half graded papers. The shelves hanging from the oak paneled walls were cluttered with a multitude of objects he’d collected on various trips he’d taken on his scholarly pursuits. A pair of roughly hewn puppets collected from an odd couple in Germany, a dream catcher he had bought from an Ojibwe woman in Canada, and an Arabian oil lamp that he’d gotten in a trade on a visit to Iran were just a few of the many treasures in his office.

 The two items that had always garnered the most attention were the centuries old spinning wheel he had found at a flea market in Italy and a kris dagger he had bargained for in Indonesia. He’d practically stolen the precious item because it was missing its sheath and some idiot had scratched “Rum” into one side of it. To an outsider they would clearly be the crown jewels of his collection as both were housed behind his desk away from wandering hands of clumsy freshmen – unlike the rest of his trinkets and baubles – but they weren’t. His true treasure wasn’t some priceless artifact from some long ago civilization displayed for all to see.

 Yes he had many, many, things in his office, but the only thing he truly cherished was a chipped cup. A chipped tea cup to be exact. It wasn’t anything special, at least not to anyone but him. It wasn’t a timeless piece of history belonging to a set from Catherine the Great or Napoleon. It was only a few years old and belonged to a set he'd found at an estate sale. While it was far from priceless, he’d probably only get a few dollars out of it if the notion ever crossed him to try and sell it. It was rich with sentimental value. It wasn’t just a chipped cup, it was her chipped cup.

Belle French, she was a hurricane in a flirty skirt and sky high heels. Leaning back in his chair Cameron closed his eyes and remembered when she had come into his life and changed it forever. When she had first flounced into his European History class three years ago he had written her off as just another freshman, using his class to get their required history credit. That thought had been blown out of his mind the first time she opened her mouth and asked if they would be exploring the family and canon laws of different European countries and how they had changed over the course of history.

 It had stunned him and for a moment he had been rendered speechless, something that didn't happen very often. When he had recovered, he'd explained that while it would be touched on briefly it wouldn't be a focus point in the course, but if it was a branch she was interested in, she was welcome to visit him during his office hours and he'd try and help her out. She had once again surprised him when she’d actually showed up to his office hours later that day.

 He honestly hadn't expected her to show up, he had been sure that one of her friends - because a girl like her undoubtedly had tons of them - would have warned her away from “the monster of the Storybrooke University.” Hardly anyone came to his office hours, only the most desperate souls ever ventured into his lair. Yet little Belle French had flounced in with her short skirt and big smile, her arms piled full of books.

 She had barely been in the room for more than thirty seconds before she was asking him about the different courses that would pair well with a English-History interest. She had talked for nearly five minutes before even taking a breath. In that time he had learned more about her and than he knew about nintey five percent of his seniors. She was double majoring in English and History, focusing primarily on how the history of the era affected the literature and vise-versa. It was a case of belated chicken pox during the summer that caused her to miss the initial enrollment for the more advanced history courses, and she had been forced to take European History since it was the only course still available. She had been hoping that there were some dropouts in his other classes that she could possibly fill.

 When Cameron had finally been able to speak, he asked her why she hadn't simply taken one of the courses taught by another member of the history department. He wouldn't recommend Professor Jones, who loved to drone on and on about war history and naval battles, to anyone but, Mal was a good teacher with a much more appealing personality. She was particularly popular with female students who always seemed to love her opening line of each new semester “Okay, everything you learned before was wrong so shut up and let me tell you how white men didn’t actually do everything.” He had been sure that Belle would have gotten along fine with Mal.

 Once again, though, Belle had blown him away with her response. She had admitted that while Professor Drago was undoubtedly a great teacher - and she had been the recommended choice from the head of the English department Dr. Midas - she had been determined to take his courses. She went on to explain how she had come across one of his old dissertations a few years before while working on a project for school and had become quite engrossed in his work. He apparently was part of the reason she had decided to pursue a major in history rather than simply just her already planned English major, and that's why she was so adamant to take his classes.

 To say Cameron had been wary of this slip of a girl and her honey sweet words, wouldn't have been a lie. He’d had other girls, and once even a boy, come to him with tales of how they admired his work so much, how he was such an inspiration and all sorts of sugared compliments to try and get him to take it easy on them or offer an extension on papers. He'd had heard it all before, but unlike other professors he wouldn't let a pretty face or a pair of mile long legs lower his standards. Miss French wouldn't make him change either, no matter how innocent she looked sitting there fiddling with the tea cup she had almost knocked over in her earlier exuberance. He had snarled at her, “Don't think flattery will get you any special treatment. Your charms will not sway “The Beast”, Dearie!”

 He had taken a bit of pleasure at watching her jump back, obviously startled by his outburst. Even the clink as the tea cup she had been toying with fell to the ground was pleasing to the ear. The pleasure lasted all of two seconds until she had glared at him, fury lighting up those brilliant blue eyes, “There's no reason to be rude. Not everyone wishes to base their education on using guile or feminine charm to get better grades. As it so happens, Mr. Gold,” she snapped belligerently as she glared at him from across the desk, “I believe in standing on my own merit.” She had grabbed her bag off the floor, along with the cup she had dropped, and stood up in a huff. She placed the cup down on his desk more forcefully than he would have thought she was capable, pausing only to give an unapologetic “It's chipped,” before turning on those impossibly high heels. She was already at the door when he called out for her to stop. “Miss French!”

 She didn't turn but did stop with her hand on the door. “If this is about the cup you can hardly see the chip.”

 That was a lie, the chip was hard to miss but he didn't care. “It's just a cup. Go see your adviser and get yourself enrolled in my History of Human Rights course. I expect you to be there on Wednesday, no exception.”

 Belle had turned back to him, looking at him skeptically for a moment before nodding. When she finally did leave, it didn’t escape his notice the way she smiled. It lit up her already enchanting features and set the muscles in his lower abdomen clenching with something he hadn’t felt in years. He knew then, without a shadow of a doubt that he was in trouble.

 For the next three years Belle French had become a regular feature in his office. At first she would show up to discuss things brought up in his lecture, but as time went on she showed up just to talk about their love of history, she had a fascination with Greek mythology and epics while he preferred native folklore and history, or their lives in general. He knew that she had been born in Australia, but she and father had moved to Storybrooke after her mother died when Belle was fifteen. He told her about growing up in the slums of Glasgow and how he had broken out of there as soon as possible and never looked back. There were many times she would just come to his office with an armful of books, so reminiscent of her first time in it, and they would sit in silence while he graded papers and she did coursework.

 The days where Belle had to work at the diner on campus and therefore was unable to join him were always bleak and seemed to drag on and on. He would try and get work done but never seemed able to focus for long. Belle's presence had become essential to his life and he didn't like her not being there. Occasionally he had caved and would down to the overpraised diner under the guise of getting coffee and a snack when all he wanted was to see Belle. The twist of Belle's lips, like she was trying to contain a smirk, made him believe she knew the real reason he came down but she never said otherwise.

 When she had finished her undergraduate work the year before, impressive for someone who was juggling two majors, she had come running to his office and enveloped him in a hug, and just like the first time she had waltzed into his office, he was completely stunned. Belle French was in his arms, and she was warm and soft and smelled like strawberries. It took all of his willpower to not pull her closer and never let go. It was only the shaking of Belle's shoulders and the feeling of hot tears soaking his shirt that alerted him to the fact that something was terribly wrong, and gave him the strength to pull away.

 It took lots of coaxing and two cups of her favorite berry white tea – which he totally didn't keep on hand just for her because that would be preposterous – to get to the reason for her tears on what should be a happy day. Apparently Regina had shut down Granny’s Diner on campus, citing that it was a money pit that wasn’t worth the funds used to keep it open. Granny Lucas was fortunately able to open a new diner off campus but with the cost required to do so meant she had to cut back on staff and wasn’t able to keep Belle on, despite how much the older lady seemed to care for her.

 The diner had been her only source of income and without it, Belle knew she was in trouble. With her father now passed, she had no family in the area and no safety net to fall back on. She had enough money in savings to keep her going through the summer but if she didn’t find a job willing to would work around her school hours she’d be unable to pursue her masters. Faced with the thought that he would be Belle-less for who knows how long, Cameron did something he had never done before. He took on a teacher’s assistant.

 In his fifteen years of being a professor at Storybrooke University, he had never taken on an assistant. Regina had tried to get him to do it several times, but he always managed to talk her out of it, or scare off the prospective student. He had never wanted a teacher’s assistant before, but Belle was different. She was brilliant, hardworking, she actually cared about her studies, she didn’t make excuses or ask for extensions, plus she already knew his system. During the many hours she had spent in his office in the past two years, she had seen him grade thousands of papers, and even helped him occasionally. He honestly couldn’t have asked for a better potential TA, and if it meant that Belle spent more time with him, he was enough of a bastard to admit it was a bonus.

 Belle had been his assistant for a year now, and things were better than they had ever been. Every day spent with her was better than the last, and Gold knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was in love with his beautiful TA. The realization had struck him like a rock several months earlier, and he had tried to deny it, but there was no way he could now. He hoarded every precious second spent with Belle, and longed for more when they were apart. He constantly found himself going out of his way to make her smile, whether it was by making sure he kept some of her favorite tea in his office, letting her borrow one of his first edition books, or simply telling some silly quip to make her laugh. He knew she could never feel the same way about him, but as long as he could still see her, and have her in his life, he was okay with that.

 That’s why the last month had been so hard for him. He had been Belle-less for four weeks and everyone had suffered for it. When Ruby Lucas came to his office to tell him that Belle would be working from home for the next few weeks, he had demanded to know why. When Miss Lucas had told him that Belle had contracted Mono, he had been stunned to silence before practically ripping the paper Ruby had brought with her, showing Dean Mill’s agreement to the doctor’s orders that Belle remain home and take it easy for a few weeks and his orders to forward her work to her email, and shouting at her to leave.

 Mono. The kissing disease. Belle had mono. Belle had the kissing disease. Belle got mono from kissing people, most likely from kissing guys. Guys who were not him. Belle was kissing someone who was not him. Belle probably had a boyfriend, a boyfriend she had never decided to tell him about. He had wondered who it could have been. By her own admission she spent most of her free time with him here in his office or at home studying. He knew she lived in student housing with Miss Lucas so it’s not like she had a live in boyfriend. Unless ...no. Belle would have told him if she was interested in other women. Wouldn’t she? Plus Miss Lucas was always drifting between boyfriends so it was hardly likely that something was going on between the two roommates. But how else could have she gotten it?

 For the last four weeks these thoughts had been driving him mad and his students had borne the brunt of his anger. He might have felt bad about throwing Will Scarlet out of his class for not bringing his textbook normally, well he probably wouldn’t have done it at all honestly, but he knew Will hung around Belle, and Ruby often, and was quite possibly the person who had gotten Belle sick. That was unforgivable, and the wanker was lucky that he had only gotten kicked out of the class. Even his fellow teachers had started avoiding him, with the exception of Mal who seemed to get a kick out of his anger.

 But all of that was in the past now. Belle was finally back in classes, today being her first day back, and was supposed to be coming by any moment to discuss a paper she had turned in while she had been gone. He knew she hadn’t been happy with the grade he had given her. While it was possible he was a little harder on it than strictly necessary it was her own fault because if she hadn’t gone around kissing people then she wouldn’t have gotten mono and she would be here where she belonged. So it was totally logical!

 A soft knock at the door tore him away from his mental diatribe, and he quickly scrambled to look like he was doing something rather than pining after his student. Once he had some papers in front of him, and he no longer looked like a puppy waiting for a sign of affection from its master he barked out an “Enter.” He tried to maintain his ‘too busy for you’ facade but it was a fruitless effort when it was Belle coming into the room. His eyes sought her figure regardless of what he pretended to want.

 She was more beautiful than he remembered.

 She was soft curves, long legs, chestnut curls that he knew were soft as silk, and bright blue eyes which were currently fixed on him. Pearly white teeth bit into her lower lip and Cameron knew that such an innocent gesture really shouldn’t send all his blood rushing south, but apparently his body hadn’t gotten that memo. Scooting further under the desk to hide his growing problem he waved her further in. “Come along, Miss French, you’ve been gone long enough. There’s no point in wasting anymore time.”

 Belle rolled her eyes at his grumbled attempt at teasing but she didn’t hesitate to pull up the extra chair he kept for her right next to him. “It’s nice to see you too, Cam. I’m great! Thanks for asking. Glad to finally be able to do more than mope about the house. How are you? Scare off any more students lately?”

 Having her right next to him where he could smell the sweet strawberry spray she preferred, and practically feel the heat of her body, didn’t help his present situation, but he couldn’t bear inching away from her. He peeked at her out of corner of his eye to find her smirking, and he felt a flush creep up his cheeks even as he attempted to play dumb to her accusations. “I don’t know what you are talking about Miss French. I assumed you were feeling better since you were here. Now I believe your email said something about wanting to discuss one of the papers you submitted while you absent?”

 “Well you’re a grump today. Did you run out of sugar for your tea or something?” When he didn’t respond she gave a shrug of her shoulders before continuing, “Fine be Mr. Grumpy Pants. Yes I wanted to ask about the last paper I sent in. I more than exceeded the requirements set forward, I double and triple proofread - I even had Professor Drago check my rough draft - and yet you still gave me a B. Even by your grading standards, and if anyone knows them it’s me, I deserved at least an A-. I worked my ass off on that paper so I’d like to know what I did wrong.”

 Extremely aware of her eyes on him, Cameron held out as long as he could, knowing he’d cave under the full force of her stare, pretending to be reading through the paper in front of him though he honestly couldn’t have told anyone what it was even about. Only when Belle gave a frustrated little noise in the back throat did he look up at her. “Apologies Miss French, didn’t want to lose my place.”

 She gave a snort of laughter, and her whole body shook with the movement. “Of course not. Do tell Cameron, when did you learn to read upside down?”

 At her pointed look he glanced down to find that the document he had been pretending to be so enraptured in was in fact, upside down. Caught in his lie, he felt his face flush once more, but Belle didn’t seem to mind his fib. Rather, she seemed to think it funny, and her giggles dragged his eyes to the low cowl neckline of her dress and the tantalizing display of cleavage it revealed.

 He quickly averted his eyes before she could catch him gazing at her, coughing to clear away his embarrassment. “Right ...so your paper. The sentence structure was rather weak throughout the entire piece. For someone with your background and experience, I really expected more from you.”

 Belle regarded him with a raised eyebrow and an air that expressed that she didn’t believe a word he was saying. “Sentence structure? Really, Cam?”

 He wished she would stop saying his name like that, shortened in the way that suggested such familiarity. He wondered what it would sound like coming from her lips at the height of her pleasure, begging him for more. And thoughts like that definitely didn’t help his problem.

 “Yes. Sentence structure. As an English major, I really would have thought you’d understand the importance of it. Maybe if you spent less time making out with your boyfriend you would have been able to make it to your classes and learn about it.”

 Silence. He really hadn’t meant to say that last part, but it had just slipped out. It was true. If she hadn’t been kissing whatever lucky, undeserving, asshole she wouldn’t have gotten mono. If she hadn’t gotten mono she wouldn’t have left him for a month and they could have continued as they always had. He could have kept on believing, foolishly, that maybe, just maybe, one day she might, just might, think of him in a similar light.

 He waited for her to call him out on his bull shit - she’d be in the right to tell him that - but she didn’t. She just sat there staring at him. No yelling, no screaming, no nothing. She could report him for inappropriate behavior, and Regina would have no problem throwing him out on his ass, despite his tenured position. She could blackmail him and demand he give her an A unless he wanted her to report him, but she didn't. She sat there with her long legs crossed at the knee, causing the skirt of her dress to slide up to reveal more of her torturous flesh to his undeserving eyes.

 Tearing his eyes away from the alluring display, he forced himself to look her in the eyes, immediately regretting the decision when he noticed the absolute detached look in them. “Miss French I should apol-”

 “I don’t want an apology.” Her words were clipped but not altogether unfriendly. Regardless, he stopped his attempt at an apology.

 “If I didn’t know better, Cameron, I’d almost say you were jealous.” There was an unreadable tone to her voice, not judgmental, or disgusted but not amused or teasing either.

 “Jealous? Whatever would I be jealous of Miss French?” His voice shook over each sentence, and he closed his eyes, finding that he couldn’t look her in the eyes anymore. Still he knew she saw through his paper thin facade.

 “You’re jealous that I may or may not have been kissing someone else. Aren’t you? Now I hardly think that’s a fair reason to give me a lesser grade. Now how about we make a deal? I give you what you want, and I get what I deserve.”

 He had never heard her move, but when soft fingers under his chin lifted his face up and he opened his eyes, he was face to face with her. She was just inches away from him, pink rosebud lips twisted up in a small smile. Dear God she was going to kill him. “Do we have a deal, Cam?”

 He should tell her no. He should just give her the grade she rightfully deserved and send her on her way and pray that she didn’t tell anyone about this. He should remove himself from her vicinity, get her transferred to another adviser - he was sure that Mal would love to have her as a TA- and put her far away from his mind. He should do the right thing for once in his life. But he was selfish, and weak, and he couldn’t do any of that. “Deal”

 The word was no sooner off his lips before her own sweet petal soft lips were crashing down on them. God they were as soft and sweet as he’d imagined. He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her to straddle his lap relishing in the way she gasped and squirmed when she came in contact with his erection. He used her little gasp to his advantage to gain entrance to her mouth, unsurprised to find that she tasted like strawberries. She didn’t remain placid for long. As soon as her shock wore off, she was kissing him back just as hard. Her tongue sought out his, causing him to moan and her to smirk.

 As they fought for dominance in the kiss he let his hands wander over the curves that had been taunting him for three years. The material of her dress was soft, but it wasn’t what he wanted to feel. He wanted, he needed to feel her skin. If he was going to go to hell for this, he might as well do it the right way. He tore his mouth away from hers, perversely proud of her disappointed groan and kiss swollen lips, to grasp the hem of her dress and yank it up over her head and toss it aside leaving her in only a pair of lacy blue panties and a matching bra. She really was going to be the death of him.

 “Gods Belle!” He hesitantly reached out and stroked along the curve of her neck, down past the hollow of her throat, fingers dancing across the silky smooth skin of her chest, and down to finally cup one perfect breast in each hand. The contrast of the rough lace and her delicate skin was maddening. He brushed his thumb across her nipple, marveling when she moaned and the bud hardened and pressed against his hand. He could almost believe that she wanted this as much as he did.

 He unsnapped her bra, waiting for her to come to her senses and smack him away, and then she was bare to him. Mesmerized as he was by all the mouthwatering flesh on display he almost didn’t notice when her fingers had gone to work at his own clothing. It wasn’t until Belle used the tie she had slipped off him to pull him in for another kiss. He kept up his ministrations, plucking and teasing at her sensitive breasts, even as he let Belle thoroughly dominate the kiss. He would never tire of kissing her he decided, even if this was all she ever allowed him to do he’d still count himself the luckiest man in the world.

 He decided to test his luck and let his lips travel from her mouth down to nip along her jaw, relishing in her breathy moans and sighs, and further down the column of her throat to the juncture of where it met her shoulder. Every bit of her tasted as sweet as the rest and he wanted to drown in the taste of her. He nipped and sucked at his new favorite spot, enjoying the way she wiggled against him and the happy noises she made, determined to leave his mark on her. He knew this would probably be the only chance he’d get to do this and he wanted something of his to be left on her. She would see his mark in the morning and would remember it was him who had brought her to this point.

 “Cam please!” Belle begged into his ear. The needy tone, and the way she bucked his hips against his, left no question of what she wanted. Who was he to deny this goddess who deigned herself to be with him?.

 Gripping her about the waist once more he hoisted her up and laid her across his desk, not caring about the papers and items that got shoved to the floor in the process. With her spread out for him he couldn’t believe his good fortune. He didn’t care if tomorrow she had him fired, because she was allowing him this right now.

 “You are so damn beautiful, my Belle.” His thickened accent made his words hard for even him to understand, but the blush that covered her face and chest showed she understood what he said. Determined to worship the gift he was being given, he leaned down to press teasing kisses to her lips before venturing further down. As he slowly mapped out her chest with his tongue he slid his hand into the last scrap of lace barring her from him and what he found shocked him.

 She was wet. She was absolutely fucking wet for him. She might have been doing this only to get her deserved grade, but she was enjoying what he was doing. She could fake some moans and needy whimpers, but even Belle couldn’t fake this. Right now, Belle wanted him as much as he needed her. A glance up along her body showed Belle biting her lip with a hungry but amused expression, “You didn’t really think that this was all for a grade did you?”

 Yes. Yes he had. “Fucking Christ.”

 “I’d rather you’d fuck me.” Belle was smiling even as she teased him, the vulgar words in her sweet accent making his already throbbing cock strain against his zipper. She was going to be the absolute fucking death of him.

 He all but ripped her panties off, exposing himself to beautiful glistening curls and pink flesh. He had planned on making this good for her, he wanted to use his tongue on her until she screamed his name to the heavens for all to hear, but her little confession had him too wound up. He had wanted her for three years and she was saying she wanted him too. Who the fuck was he to deny her? He quickly attacked his own pants, fumbling with his belt and zipper before he finally was able to free his aching cock.

 He momentarily froze, afraid that upon seeing him that Belle would realize how horrible of a decision this was and run away screaming, but it never happened. Instead she smiled and told him, “You’re beautiful Cam.” It was too much for him. He needed this beautiful woman.

 Opening one of his desk drawers, he grabbed one of the condoms which the school insisted that all staff keep in their offices. Never had he been so happy for that rule. It was a work of a moment to get it open and rolled down over his member, but then he was gripping himself, pressing forward eagerly to enter Belle. Even as he teased her with the head of his cock, he sought her assurance that this was what she really wanted. “Belle are you su…”

 “Yes! I want this, Cam. Please”

 Belle had never lied to him before and he hardly doubted she’d choose this moment to do it now. She decided her own fate and right now it appeared that she had decided on him. That was good enough for him.

 Pressing forward he felt himself slip inside her and it took all his willpower to not come right then. She was so tight and wet around him. She felt fucking incredible, and he couldn’t disappoint her. Once fully inside her he held completely still, just as much for her benefit as his own. He waited until she started bucking against him, trying to gain any friction, before he started moving.

 Slowly he withdrew until only the head remained before snapping his hips forward causing her to cry out. He repeated the movement, slow withdraw, sharp entrance, until she was crying out his name. He had been right, her shouting his name in pleasure was the sweetest thing he would ever hear. But as much as he wanted the entire school to hear him making her happy, that would lead to more trouble than either of them needed. Leaning down, he sealed his mouth over hers swallowing her cries and moans and letting her muffle his own noises.

 When Belle wrapped her legs around his waist, locking her ankles at his back, he sank deeper into her sweet heaven, and he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. Slipping a hand between their writhing bodies, he sought out that bundle of nerves he knew would tip her over the edge. When he managed to find the slick bud, Belle dug her nails into the material of his shirt which he still wore, and he knew that he’d still have marks despite the barrier. He gave her clit a quick pinch and with a cry - that even he couldn’t contain - he felt her explode all around him.

 Somehow he managed to ride out her orgasm without losing himself in her. He slowed his thrusts until she opened her eyes and locked gazes with him. He needed to see her looking at him, needed her to know what this meant to him. “I love you, Belle.”

 She broke into a happy grin, and reached up to brush some of his hair back from his face. “I love you too, Cam.”

 Those words on her tongue had him losing it. His hips snapped forward again, unable to hold back anymore. Each thrust punctuated by her cry of his name and the knocking sound of his belt against his desk.

 “Cam!” Knock.

 “Cam!” Knock.

 “Cam!” Knock.

 “ _Cam!” Knock._

 “ _Cameron?!” Knock._

 “ _Cameron are you there?”_

 Cameron Gold awoke with a start, and the uncomfortable damp feeling as he found his pleasure in his trousers. Looking around he didn’t find Belle spread out on his desk. No sign of her was anywhere in the room matter of fact. Had she been there or had he really dreamt the whole thing? The wet spot in his pants indicated the latter was the truth. Groaning he sunk back in his chair, he really was pathetic.

 The knock at the door startled him, and he remembered now what had woken him up. Belle was outside his door, waiting to discuss her paper.

 “Cameron are you there?”

 Yes Belle French was going to be the death of him.

**Author's Note:**

> Don't kill me.


End file.
